Illusions
by Phanstarlight
Summary: Arwen was beginning to feel a dark pull from something close to her- something other than the One Ring. But, only once she discovers a betrayal of the cruelest nature, does she begin to see just how far the power of the darkness can take her. Begins just before the departure of the Fellowship from Rivendell and follows on. Aragon/Legolas, Dark!Arwen, AU
1. Chapter 1

**Been think about this idea for a while now but now I've finally got enough of it written down. If all goes to plan, this fic should be updated every Friday. As you probably expected, I don't own any rights to LOTR or any of the characters. Enjoy!**

Arwen knew she was letting her mind get away from her. And yet, she couldn't shake the looming sense of fear everywhere she went. She told herself it was simply because of what had found itself into Rivendell- the One Ring. But this felt different; more personal than the pull they all felt from the Ring. She had tried to ignore it, but it was always in the back of her mind, taunting her. So, she had decided to try and figure out what it was. But only when she found out the reason for her fear did she wish she had never tried looking for it at all.

It all began when Aragon had asked her to meet him in an area of the forest on the edge of her father's kingdom. She had managed to sneak away unseen and had arrived to see Aragon standing by a tree, looking pensive.

"My love?" Arwen spoke to announce her presence. Aragon lifted his head and greeted her with a weak smile but said nothing.

"Something troubles you," Arwen said more as a statement than a question and instantly, Aragon's attempt at a smile slid from his lips; he should have known he wouldn't be able to hide his distress from her. But how could he tell her the truth, after all that they had been through together? How could he tell her how he had betrayed her trust, night after night? Arwen walked over to Aragon's side upon seeing the growing conflict of emotion in his eyes. Gently, she took his hands in her own and intertwined their fingers.

"You are not the only one concerned about the arrival of the One Ring in this place- our home," Arwen reassured him and he gave her another sad smile; he only wished that was all that he feared.

"The Ring will be leaving soon, and myself with it," Aragon told her and Arwen found herself recoiling slightly in shock.

"What do you mean?" Arwen questioned, confused by Aragon's statement.

"A Fellowship has formed with the purpose of destroying the Ring. I am unsure whether I will return," Aragon spoke calmly.

"I don't understand," Arwen's voice cracked, her eyes welling with tears. Silently, Aragon pulled away from her. For a moment, he simply stood and watched as a single tear rolled down Arwen's cheek. Then he turned and walked further into the forest, out of Arwen's sight. Speechless, Arwen stared at the space in which he had been standing. Only when she looked down did she realised Aragon had placed something in her hands. As she looked at it more closely, her heart momentarily stopped. In her hands lay the Even Star, shining as brightly as ever. Why had he returned this to her? Did her love truly mean so little that he could give and take it as he pleased? No, Arwen decided as her fingers closed around the pendant, there had to be something more behind all of this. The idea of going after Aragon and into the forest briefly crossed her mind but she quickly dismissed it; the forest was large and dense, she would never find him. So, she turned back and walked towards her father's palace.

Day rolled into night as the sun set on the eve of the departure of the Fellowship. Unable to sleep, Arwen had decided to take a walk around her father's palace with the eternal light of the stars to guide her. Apart from a few select night guards posted around the palace, everything was silent and empty as Arwen wandered aimlessly down the moonlit corridors. But then a sudden flash of light in her otherwise dark surroundings caught her eye. She turned around and found that the light was spilling through the gap under a closed door. The light seemed to move and flicker, suggesting that it was coming from a single candle that had been lit inside the room. Arwen frowned to herself, wondering who else would be awake at such a late hour. Curiously, she approached the door as quietly as she could to prevent alerting the occupants of her presence. Once she got closer, she could hear voices from inside but struggled to make out exactly what they were saying. Glancing back over her shoulder to make sure no one would see her, she pressed her ear against the door.

"-couldn't tell her," a voice Arwen instantly recognised as Aragon's spoke. She frowned to herself- these were not Aragon's chambers, so what was he doing out here?

"So, she still doesn't know?" another voice Arwen knew replied- the elf Legolas. What was Aragon doing with him at such a late hour? She knew that the two of them were part of the so-called Fellowship of the Ring. Maybe they were discussing the journey ahead of them? But, from the tone of their voices, Arwen had a feeling there was something more to this late night meeting that it may have first seemed. Staying as still and as quiet as possible, she continued to listen to their exchange.

"I couldn't betray her trust like that," Aragon spoke with such shame in his voice that Arwen's heart constricted in her chest. All she wanted to do was run inside and comfort him. But she knew that she couldn't.

"It isn't your fault," Legolas reassured Aragon who sighed in response.

"I loved her, Legolas. And I still do. But I know who my heart truly belongs to,"

Arwen frowned at hearing Aragon's words. Surely they couldn't be talking about her, could they? Despite what her mind told her, her heart demanded that the questions she had needed to be answered. Holding her breath, Arwen placed her hand on the door handle. Instinctively, she stared down at her feet as she forced herself to push the door open.

For a moment, there was nothing but still silence. Somewhere, a distant hope flickered inside Arwen that Aragon and Legolas hadn't seen her and she could undo the mistake she had just made. But as she looked up, she knew there was no way to erase or go back and her heart shattered into dust at the sight that befell her eyes. There lay Aragon on the bed in front of her, his arm draped over Legolas' waist with their bare legs intertwined and their faces only inches from each other. The light of a single candle shone in Aragon's eyes as he gazed at Legolas and, for the smallest moment, Arwen saw something in his expression that she would never forget; she saw true, undivided love. But the spell was quickly broken as both ranger and elf looked up at her with shock in their eyes. Legolas instantly leapt away from Aragon's embrace and tried to compose himself even though everyone in the room knew it was already far too late.

"Arwen," Aragon stood up quickly, reaching out his hand as though to comfort her. That was when Arwen could finally break free of the silence she had been chained to.

"Do not come any closer, Aragon. I can see the truth now; there is no way to hide it any longer," Arwen spoke with a dark and dangerous voice. Silently, she removed the Even Star from around her neck and tossed it carelessly onto the bed. After a pause, Aragon cautiously leant forward and picked it up. Arwen watched him in silence before turning and leaving the room.

"My love..." Aragon called after her as she stepped out into the night. Arwen stopped but Aragon did not approach her.

"You lost all right to call me such a thing as soon as you chose to share your bed, and your heart, with another," Arwen said without turning back. A moment of silence passed between them before Arwen began walking again and disappeared into the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry this chapter is a little late, hope you enjoy!**

She had no idea how long she had been walking- her mind filled with images of Aragon and Legolas entangled in their love behind her back. But when she had no more tears to shed and her eyes cleared, Arwen looked about her to discover she was somewhere she did not recognise. She was surrounded by trees and nature but they felt different to the ones she knew- colder, quieter; as if they had something to hide. She sensed they held a form of magic but it was one she neither knew nor trusted. She stepped carefully around the old, knotted roots at her feet as she looked around her for at least a glimmer of something she recognised. But the further she walked, the less certain she became that this place was even real at all, rather than a strange dream formed from a long lost memory. The feeling made her mind clouded and her limbs numb. The exhaustion from her heavy heart finally caught up with her as her knees fell away from underneath her. The last thing she remembered was the sound of her body hitting the ground with a gentle thud before her eyes slid shut and she gave in to the pull of unconsciousness.

Arwen's dreams were filled with an unnatural darkness, born of her grieving heart. At first, her mind saw blood from her own body spilling out from beneath her split skin. Her thoughts taunted her with her lack of purpose. She had sacrificed her immortality for Aragon and he had thrown it away like it had meant nothing. So, why should she not do the same and abandon the world of the living, leaving all heartbreak that it held behind her? She longed so deeply for the peace that death would grant her. But then, her mind twisted to a different kind of peace as her heart filled with resentment and anger. Why should she have to feel so much pain while he felt nothing? He deserved to suffer the same way she had done. Haunting images of Aragon's pain seeped into her dreams, filling her with purpose once more. Once she lived for his love; now she would live for his suffering. He would burn and break before her eyes and by her hand.

Arwen awoke sharply with a pounding heart and quickening breaths. Her vision blurred slightly as her mind returned to reality. Her heart still ached with Aragon's betrayal, but the pain was weakened from before. Instead she felt a slow, smouldering anger burning inside her. A small part of her knew that she shouldn't act upon it; it would only bring about more pain for herself and those she knew she still cared for. But something about the darkness of the forest had latched itself onto her soul and was refusing to let go. It was that same pull of darkness that dragged her to her feet and sent her walking further into the heart of the forest. She didn't exactly know what she was walking towards; all she knew was that she would know what she was looking for once she found it. And, true to her instincts, when she reached a clearing with a small thatched building in the centre, she knew she had reached her destination. It looked like it used to be someone's home; but that person had long since moved on from this world. The house was old and abandoned as flowers and vines had taken refuge in the brickwork. She approached the door and cautiously knocked on the knotted wood. When no answer came- not that she had really been expecting one- she gently pushed the door open and stepped inside.

For a moment she was blinded by the contrasting darkness of the room. But, once her eyes adjusted, Arwen saw a room filled with almost nothing but books. Some of them she recognised as elvish, others she could not understand- but they all seemed to be somehow linked to magic. Slowly, Arwen walked further inside and brushed her fingertips along the books within her reach, sending plumes of dust into the air around her. When she reached the other side of the room, she stopped and looked down at the book on the table in front of her. It had no cover or title- just a black, leather-bound journal. Curiosity won her over and she reached down and picked it up. As soon as she opened it, her breath caught in her throat. This book contained spells; but not just any spells, this magic was older and darker than anything she had ever seen before. Many were written in tongues she did not speak, but some she knew or could at least translate into something she knew. She began pacing the length of the room as she thumbed through the pages, transfixed by every word she read. She had no idea how long she had been lost in those pages but eventually she stumbled across a spell that caught her eye. It was a spell to summon the dead. For a moment, Arwen simply stared at the words in front of her. Then a whisper of a laugh passed through her lips. She had noticed the spell contained a fundamental and fairly dangerous flaw- the was no way to determine the loyalty of those how were brought back to the world of the living. Souls that were more willing to be pulled back were often those with unfinished business. So, when someone brought them back, who was to say they wouldn't just turn on those whose rose them and then cause unending chaos however they pleased? Shaking her head, Arwen went to put the book down again. But just before it fell from her grasp, a sudden thought crossed her mind. She was a powerful being, well versed in elvish magic. If she found a way to combine this spell with another she knew- a binding spell- she would be able to control the souls she raised. Her grip tightened once again on the spell book and her eyes flashed with determination. It was dangerous but Arwen didn't care; she had nothing left to lose.

* * *

Light meant everything in the world of the Elves. It built the very foundation of their existence; their life, their magic, their songs, their worship. It all came from the light that fought away the darkness. Yet Arwen, an elf born of the purest light, found herself drawn to this deep, endless maze of darkness. She felt it pull her out of the glowing light and into the cold blackness of the trees. She walked deeper into the forest until she found what she had been looking for- somewhere she could perform the spells. Eventually, she came across a gathering of trees and stopped walking. She felt an energy she did not know but she knew that this was the place she needed to be. She stood still and closed her eyes, gathering her strength. Her breath slowed as time itself seemed to stop. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked down to the open spell book in her hands. The words of the foreign spell fell naturally from her lips, almost as if she had been born to speak them. She felt the power flow through her body, intoxicating her senses. The shadows cast by the surrounding trees grew darker and began to rise around her. Slowly, the shadows grew until the final words of the spell were spoken and five hooded figures of darkness stood before her. In place of faces, the figures had nothing more than a deep swirling mess of black smoke beneath their hoods. For a moment, everything was still and silent. Then, one of the figures reached out a bare, skinless hand and lunged towards her. But before the hand could touch her, Arwen felt the power course through her once more. All five figures were forced downwards until they were all kneeling before her.

"With this spell, I bind you to me. You are mine and you will obey me. When your purpose is complete, I will release you to your final resting place," Arwen spoke intensely, looking across the shadowed figures below her.

"Yes, my lady," the figures spoke in unison, their voices echoing around the forest.

"Good," Arwen smirked to herself "then we must begin, there is much to do,"


	3. Chapter 3

Despite not being able to see them, Arwen felt the presence of her new followers as she approached the gates of Rivendell. They hid in the shadows, out of sight from all those around them; but she still knew they were with her as she entered her father's kingdom. She smirked to herself as their presence reassured her of her aims; Aragon was going to pay for what he had done to her. As expected, the guards allowed her right into the heart of her father's castle without suspecting a thing. But what she had not been expecting was that Aragon, along with their reserved hobbit guests, had seemed to disappear.

"Where is Aragon? I should like to speak with him before he leaves Rivendell again," Arwen spoke kindly to one of the interior guards, but her face fell when his expression became confused.

"He has already departed, my Lady. Along with the rest of the Fellowship," he offered as an explanation, although it did not really answer Arwen's initial question.

"The Fellowship? They have left already?" Arwen asked, the confusion clear in her tone.

"I think it may be best if you spoke with your father; he will have more to offer in the way of answers than I do," the guard suggested and Arwen quickly took her leave. She hurried towards her chambers as fast as she could. Sighing, she sat down on the edge of her bed and stared down at the floor. She was too late; Aragon was already gone, and no one knew if or when he would return. Doubt began to spread in her mind. Was she truly able to do this? Or was revenge now too far out of her reach? Should she simply accept her fate and try to move on with the remaining life she had left.

"You cannot give up," voices whispered in her ears. Arwen looked around the room and saw the five shadowed figures rise up from the ground. Soon they loomed over her, covering her from the sunlight entering through the windows behind her.

"He deserves to feel the same pain he has caused you, and worse," the voices taunted her with her own thoughts and words. Slowly, she stood and the figures faded back into nothing. She packed as little as she could get away with- only what she needed to survive. She'd travel faster that way. And, if she was going to catch up with this 'Fellowship', she would have to travel as fast as she could.

"Arwen?" the voice of her father spoke from the doorway and she froze in place.

"Father," she greeted with a faux smile, turning to stand and face him.

"What are you doing?" Elrond questioned with a frown, glancing around Arwen to the satchel on the bed behind her.

"I have some errands to run. I may be gone some time; I do not know when I will return," Arwen offered as an explanation.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Elrond asked, the concern clear in his voice.

"This is something I must do alone, for myself," Arwen sighed but she knew her father could not be convinced so easily. But, she also knew he had no grounds on which to stop her. He walked over to her and held her hands in his own.

"I know you have been troubled as of late and I will not pry if you do not wish to tell me. But I want you to know that I will always be here for you and you can always trust me with your worries," Elrond told his daughter truthfully and, for just a moment, Arwen felt a pang of guilt somewhere deep inside her heart.

"I'm sorry, father. I'll return to you once I am finished. Maybe then I'll be able to tell you about what is about to happen," Arwen told him and she was telling the truth. Once this was all over, she would be able to come home with a free mind and heart. And maybe she'd be safe to tell her father what she had done and she hoped he would understand why she did it. But no matter what, she trusted that he would protect her. Pushing herself upwards onto her toes, she kissed her father's cheek. As she pulled away, he smiled down at her softly.

"Just promise me you will be careful, wherever it is that you are going?" Elrond asked of her.

"Of course, father," Arwen promised, if only to ease his mind. Content with her answer, Elrond gave her hands one final squeeze before turning and leaving the room. Arwen sighed in relief as the smile dropped from her face. She allowed herself a moment to collect her thoughts before continuing to pack what she needed.

* * *

The deep blue of Arwen's cloak flowed behind her as she crept through her father's kingdom. Slowly, she swerved through the corridors before hurriedly edging her way around the outside of the courtyard- even though it was the dead of night, she knew she still had to be careful to not be seen by too many guards. She quietly approached the stables where her horse was waiting patiently for her. She hushed him for a moment before leading him out. Eventually, she reached the last gate between her and the rest of the world. As expected, a guard stood vigilantly by it. But she had been prepared for this and knew exactly what she needed to do. She contorted her face with worry and hurried up to the guard.

"Where are they?" she asked the surprised guard in hushed tones.

"Pardon, my Lady?" the guard questioned.

"The Fellowship, you must tell me where they went," Arwen demanded, her apparent fear seeping into her voice.

"Is everything alright?" the guard asked her, seemingly truly concerned.

"They are in terrible danger. I must go to warn they right away!" Arwen raised her voice slightly.

"Would it not be safer to send a messenger in your stead? It would not do to put you in harms way,"

"There's no time! I must go to them while there is still a chance to save them," Arwen pleaded, her voice growing louder. The guard paused for a conflicted moment; a moral argument raging inside his head. Eventually, he relented.

"I believe they are headed South. But the exact route is hidden from all of us, possibly even from the Fellowship themselves. If you want to find them before they reach the mountains, I suggest you travel quickly," the guard told her, nodding towards her horse.

"Of course, thank you," Arwen smiled before mounting her horse. She looked down and nodded as the guard opened the gate for her. As soon as the gap was wide enough for her horse to fit through, she was off. The guard watched after her as she disappeared into the darkness with the feeling she had not told him the truth at all.


	4. Chapter 4

"You should get some rest. I said I'd take the watch tonight,"

Aragon looked up to see Legolas smiling down at him and he couldn't help but smile back. The group had made camp for the night and almost everyone was now peacefully asleep. Everyone except the ranger and the elf.

"I cannot seem to find sleep, so I thought I would keep you company," Aragon told the elf truthfully. Legolas smiled and nodded as Aragon took a seat on the patch of grass beside him. The two of them sat in a comfortable silence for a while, both gazing out into the night. Slowly, Legolas reached out and held Aragon's hand in his own. Aragon smiled to himself and gently squeezed Legolas' hand.

"Can I ask you something?" Legolas suddenly said, turning to face the ranger.

"Of course," Aragon smiled, though he sensed that something was weighing on his lover's mind.

"Have you felt something recently; something dark? It's different to the pull of the Ring. It's something with more hatred than desire," Legolas explained, his eyes growing distant as he focused on the dark energy that surrounded them even now as they spoke.

"I believe I have had that very same feeling," Aragon admitted, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Do you think it's because..." Legolas trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence in fear of turning his thoughts into reality. Aragon nodded, knowing exactly what Legolas was trying to say- was this new darkness growing because of them and what they had found with one another? Was the world really so opposed to their love that it would turn all of nature against them? Legolas knew in his mind that was not possible; the energy of the world around them valued love in all its beautiful forms. But, despite his beliefs, part of him still doubted that fact.

"It can't be," Aragon tried to reassure both Legolas and himself.

"Come, we have bigger things to worry about," Legolas sighed, glancing over his shoulder towards a sleeping Frodo, closely guarded by a peaceful looking Sam. They both knew the Ring had to be their main focus.

"That you are right, my love," Aragon smiled sadly, leaning in to Legolas' side. Legolas reached out and wrapped an arm around Aragon's shoulders, pulling him in closer. The two of them remained silent, gazing out into the stars, both feeling slightly more comforted by each other's presence.

* * *

Arwen's thoughts grew darker by the day. Her hatred for both Aragon and Legolas grew until it became something unrecognisable. She even resented that she was using the very skills Aragon had taught her so long ago to track the Fellowship through the mountains. She suspected she was only a day and a half behind them. They had been traveling for quite some time now and Arwen was beginning to see signs that they had been tracked by a larger group than her- deep, heavy footprints set in mud and crude scratches along trees. She suspected it to be a group of orcs, probably after the Ring. She surprised herself with the thoughts that followed this realisation. While she knew the orcs would be focused on the Ring and its bearer, she hoped Aragon and Legolas had remained unharmed- she wanted to have the pleasure of hurting them herself. She knew these thoughts were dark and twisted, yet somehow everything about them just felt so right. And her undead servants agreed. With every knew turn, they whispered promises of revenge and punishment upon those who had wronged her. Her heart and soul leaned towards their irresistible draw of power without her mind even realising it.

Soon, Arwen stumbled into what looked to be remains from a fight. The floor was littered with the bodies of creatures that looked like orcs but something told her there was something more to them than it first seemed. But whatever they were, it was of no concern to her, as they were probably those who had been following the Ring, Arwen figured. Clearly, they had gotten too close. Her thoughts turned against her once more and, for a moment, she imagined one of the bodies surrounding her to be that of Aragon. The shock of her own thoughts caused her to physically recoil. She knew she longed for revenge but she would never wish death upon anyone, not even those who had hurt her. She stood in silence, seemingly alone in the forest, her heart pounding in her chest. She wouldn't let herself go down that path; she knew that was something she would never be able to return from. In an attempt to distract herself, she followed each separate path of the members of the Fellowship. It did not take her too long to realise the Fellowship had broken. She knew this would make it easier for her to follow and find Aragon but she also knew Legolas would still be with him. She began to wonder about Legolas' side of all this; did he truly love Aragon as she had done or was this all a mere flicker of the heart, soon to disappear? When the time came, would he stand firm by Aragon's side or would he submit to the darkness and abandon him to his fate? Were either of them really willing to die of their love? Somehow, Arwen was not sure she wanted to know the answer.

Hardening her resolve, Arwen stood up straight and turned her gaze further into the forest. She knew what she needed to do. She would continue to follow their tracks, quickening her pace toward them. As she knew she would begin to close in behind them, she decided it was time to give Aragon and Legolas a sign; she was angry, she was powerful, and she would be avenged.


	5. Chapter 5

Aragon opened his eyes to find himself encompassed in silk sheets and a comforting warmth. He sighed softly to himself, his body feeling heavy beneath him. Slowly, he rolled over and smiled when he saw Legolas sleeping peacefully beside him. He reached out a hand and gently brushed a strand of golden hair from Legolas' face, causing him to stir. Aragon had always thought his elf looked so beautiful when he slept. In the back of his mind, a thought floated through telling him this was nothing but a dream. But even if that were true, Aragon didn't mind; if this was a dream, at least it was a good one. Unlike so many of the other dreams he had been having as of late. Beside him, Legolas opened his eyes and smiled upon seeing Aragon's face.

"Hello, my love," Legolas mumbled, reaching out and resting his hand on Aragon's hip. Aragon smiled and slowly leaned forward. He felt Legolas' warm breath brush past his cheek but, just before their lips could touch, everything turned cold. Legolas was ripped from his grasp and suddenly Aragon found himself lying on a stone floor, somewhere else entirely.

"Legolas?" Aragon called out to the darkness around him, staggering to his feet. But the only reply he got was the distant echo of his own voice. Frantically, Aragon turned in a circle, desperate to discern anything from the endless dark. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a cloaked figure watching him.

"Who are you?" Aragon demanded, turning to face them. The figure laughed quietly, and Aragon felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end; he knew that voice, that laugh.

"I cannot be," Aragon stumbled backwards as the figure stepped forward and revealed themselves- it was Arwen, shrouded in shadow and hate.

"Hello, my dear," Arwen almost spat the phrase, walking closer to the man she had once loved- and who had once loved her. Maybe he loved her still, but Arwen knew that no longer mattered.

"What is this?" Aragon gasped breathlessly.

"A warning. Or a prediction of the future, depending on what you say to me right here, right now," All traces of the Arwen that Aragon had known had disappeared; they had been replaced with hatred, coldness, and distain.

"What do you mean?" he questioned, wondering why she was speaking in such riddles.

"Give up everything to me. Abandon your pointless quest, leave your friends behind you, and come back to me. Do this, and I will spare both yours and your precious elf prince's lives," Arwen requested calmly, her face an expressionless mask.

"You would ask me to not only leave Legolas, but also abandon this quest that may yet control the fate of the world?" Aragon asked incredulously, not quite believing what he was hearing.

"Yes," Arwen replied simply, and for a moment, Aragon found himself speechless.

"Surely, you understand that I cannot do as you ask," Aragon finally managed to say, and Arwen's expression turned sour.

"So… you choose them over me?" she asked, her voice suddenly very quiet.

"I cannot turn my back on them, on the whole world. Not while we still stand a chance," Aragon tried to explain but Arwen raised her hand to silence him.

"If that is your answer, then you leave me with no other choice," Arwen sighed with what was almost a hint of sadness in her voice.

"What do you mean? Arwen, please," Aragon began to beg, confused by her words.

"Silence!" Arwen shouted and with a flash of light, she disappeared from sight.

Aragon awoke with a sudden start. His chest heaved and his palms sweat as he looked about himself to find that he was laying on the forest floor; exactly where he had been when he had first fallen asleep.

"Aragon!"

The sound of his name made Aragon turn around to see Legolas sat bolt upright, his eyes wide with fear.

"Legolas? Are you okay?" Aragon asked with concern, leaning over towards him.

"Arwen, she…" Legolas mumbled.

"She confronted you, didn't she?" Aragon reached out an arm and wrapped it around Legolas' shoulders.

"Yes, how did you know?" Legolas nodded, leaning in to Aragon's embrace.

"I had the very same dream. She told me that if did not abandon you, and everyone else, she would come for us,"

"She said something similar to me; if I did not force you away from me, she would pull you from me in any way she could," Legolas shivered, curling into Aragon's side.

"It was just a dream, surely…" Aragon tried to reassure himself, but they both knew the truth. Arwen was not who she used to be. She was the one behind the growing dark magic that had been following them. But both of them also knew they could not turn away from each other nor their friends. They had to continue on, no matter the consequences that lay ahead of them.

So, continue they did. But, much to their surprise, the darkness around them from Arwen's power did not grow. In fact, it seemed to retract away from them until almost nothing remained. Their minds turned away from her and focused on the quest ahead of them. Before long, they found themselves in the fortress of Helm's Deep, preparing to mount a defence in the name of King Théoden and the people of Rohan; all previous worries of Arwen nothing but a distant memory. As they fought side by side, neither of them had ever felt closer to one another- their love a beacon of hope for themselves and all those around them. Maybe it was that same hope that led to their eventual victory, despite the heavy loss suffered by both man and elf. But, as they would soon discover, the threat from previously forgotten dark forces was not over yet.

* * *

She had not given up. She knew she could never give up. This had become her purpose, her only reason to exist. To give up would be to forfeit her life, and revenge was something far sweeter than death. Arwen had sacraficed her immortality for him and he had cast it aside as though it meant nothing. So, she was not about to let whatever remainder of life she had left go to waste. He had destroyed her, so she would destroy everything he had ever loved. It was what he deserved, if nothing else. All she needed was a little more time. But now, as her plans were finally beginning to take shape, she sure the future within her grasp. All that was left to do, was act upon it.


	6. Chapter 6

Arwen had always felt she had a strong connection to the forces of magic. But, never before had she seen her true potential. As she gave her whole being over to those forces, in return, she had unlocked the extent of the power concealed within her. And she was beginning to see just how powerful she could be; more powerful than any elf, man, or dwarf, maybe she was even more powerful than the Dark Lord himself. But that was not where her focus was placed; all she wanted was revenge. That was why she had hidden herself away. She had not retreated or given up, she was gathering herself for the final blow. And she had not been idle during this time either.

"And now, with this final touch, I bind you to your singular purpose," Arwen murmured to herself as she picked up the object in front of her- a glistening, almost other-worldly looking sword. She closed her eyes and whispered an enchantment unto the sword, feeling her hatred for Aragon and all that he cared for pour over into the sword's blade. Her servants of darkness hovered over her shoulders, willing her work forwards. After a sharp inhalation of breath, Arwen opened her eyes. She held out the sword in front of her, allowing her hand to feel its perfect balance. This weapon had only one purpose; to destroy Aragon. And, in that moment, she knew the time had come. It was time to finally put an end to her suffering. It was time to seek her revenge.

Many moons ago, when she had first sent Aragon and Legolas a sign of what was to come, she had managed to place a tracking spell on them both. So, together with her undead servants, she emerged from her dark dwelling and headed straight towards the feeling of their presence. As the days past as she closed in on them, Arwen had thought that doubt or even fear would begin to fester inside her. But they did not. All she felt was total, utter commitment to her goal. Finally, after almost a week of pursuing them, Arwen found her prey on the outskirts of Minas Tirith. They appeared weary from battle, but Arwen was not troubled. She cared not what their 'quest' had led them to do or who to fight for; only that they were still alive, so she could cause them a pain so severe they would beg her for death. She stayed in the shadows- a place she had become very accustomed to- and watched them for a while. Eventually, she saw her moment as Aragon left the group and turned down a secluded corner of the mountain pass behind them. She followed him silently until she was certain they were far enough away from anyone who would consider coming to Aragon's aid. Then, with her hand wrapped firmly around the hilt of her sword, she stepped out into the light.

"Aragon," she called after him, causing him to suddenly stop and turn around to face her.

"A-Arwen?" he whispered, not believing that the woman stood in front of him could possibly be the same woman he had once known so closely.

"It's time to pay for what you have done to me," Arwen stepped closer towards Aragon. He tried to step back from her, but his back simply hit the wall behind him. Arwen smirked as she saw the glimpse of terror flash in his eyes when he realised that he had nowhere else to go.

"Arwen, please. You must believe me when I say that I never meant to cause you this much pain," Aragon pleaded with her.

"The time for apologies has long since passed us by," Arwen spoke calmly, slowly unsheathing her sword.

"I don't want to hurt you," Aragon said honestly, his hand wrapped around the hilt of his own sword nonetheless.

"It's not me you're going to have to hurt this time," Arwen smirked, suddenly stepping backwards. Aragon frowned for a moment before a movement in the shadows caught his eye. He turned and watched as the shadows beside him seemed to twist and turn until they rose to form cloaked figures.

"What-?" Aragon stuttered, unsheathing his sword just in time to block the attack from the figure closest to him. He hardly had time to glance over at Arwen smirking at him before he was forced to duck in order to dodge another attack. He spun around and raised his sword at shadowed figures as they advanced towards him. He stayed still for a moment, gauging their positions. Then, in a flash of speed, Aragon lunged towards the middle figure and swiped his sword clean through their chest. But, as he drew his sword away, he was shocked to see that the figures were still slowly advancing. Then, he looked down at his sword to see not a single drop of blood.

"What have you done?" Aragon asked, scanning the darkness behind the figures for any sign of Arwen.

"I did only what I had to; only what you forced me to do," Arwen's voice spoke from seemingly everywhere. Aragon's grip on his sword tightened, his mind focused, and he lunged forward once more. Again and again he attacked the figures, hoping to find a sign of weakness. But, over and over nothing seemed to stop them. He fought for what felt like hours until eventually, exhausted by his efforts, his sword slipped from his hand. As it clattered to the ground, he fell to his knees beside it, gasping for breath. He felt a presence behind him, but he had neither the energy nor the will to move. But the blow he had been expecting did not come. Instead, a hand gripped into his hair and pulled his head upwards. The cool metal of a sword pressed gently against his throat and he felt a gentle breath brush past his ear.

"I made this sword with one sole purpose- to destroy you," Arwen whispered from behind him. She smiled before pressing a soft kiss against his cheek.

"Goodbye, my love,"


	7. Chapter 7

**So, here's the final chapter. Hope you've all enjoyed reading this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it!**

"Goodbye, my love," Arwen sighed with almost a sense of bittersweet kindness. But, just as she poised her sword to strike-

"Not so fast," a voice spoke in a dangerously calm tone. Aragon's eyes flicked up to see Legolas standing across from them, his sword pointed directly at Arwen's chest.

"Well, look who came to the rescue," Arwen sneered, grinning wickedly at Legolas. Slowly she stood, but ensured Aragon was still at the end of her blade.

"Let him go," Legolas stepped closer towards Arwen. The cloaked figures began advancing towards him, but Arwen held up her hand to stop them. They paused for a moment before stepping back and then they seemed to dissolve into the shadows.

"You may have him… on one condition," Arwen smirked, seeing an unexpected opportunity present itself to her.

"What do you want?" Legolas questioned.

"You. I will free him, and vow to never harm a hair on his head from this day forward, if you put yourself in his place,"

"I'll do it," Legolas said without hesitation, lowering his sword.

"No!" Aragon yelled, reaching out toward Legolas. With the slightest flick of Arwen's hand, Aragon found himself bound by invisible ropes. He struggled helplessly as Arwen stepped forward and took Legolas' sword from his hand. She tossed it carelessly to one side.

"Are you sure of your decision?" she asked him teasingly, walking in a circle around him.

"Yes. Anything to keep Aragon safe. I'm sure, at one point not so long ago, you might have done the same," Legolas spoke steadily, not taking his eyes away from Aragon's.

"My love, Legolas… please," Aragon begged, tears forming in his eyes. Arwen stopped to stand behind Legolas. Slowly, she raised her sword to his throat.

"Any final words?" Arwen whispered in his ear.

"I love you, Aragon. I always have done. Do not let my death ruin you. Do not allow Arwen to achieve her goal. Survive and flourish without me, my dearest," Legolas said solely to Aragon, a single tear falling down his cheek. Arwen's blade pressed harder against Legolas' throat. He kept his eyes fixed on Aragon but, just as the blade drew the first drop of blood, suddenly Arwen pulled away.

"You… you really would die for him, wouldn't you?" Arwen mumbled, her grip faltering as her sword dropped to her side.

"I would do anything for him," Legolas told her truthfully, turning around to face her. Arwen stumbled backwards before falling to her knees. Out of the shadows, the figures appeared once more. She looked up at them as they waited expectantly for instruction. Slowly, she raised her hand to the sky.

"I-I release you from your service. Rest now, in peace," she muttered, closing her eyes. With a gust of wind, the figures dissolved into dust. When the air cleared, they were no where to be seen. Aragon's invisible bonds released, and he quickly stood to stand by Legolas' side.

"I'm sorry," Arwen sobbed quietly, her sword now laying on the ground in front of her, "I never thought I'd be capable of taking things this far…"

But, despite everything she had done to them, Aragon knew there was still goodness to be found in her heart. Leaning down, he held out his hand towards her. Arwen looked at him in shock before cautiously taking his hand in hers and pulled herself up.

"You may deal with me in whatever way you see fit. Kill me, exile me to the furthest reaches of the mountains, imprison me in the tallest tower-"

"I will be doing none of that," Aragon stopped her before she could continue, "your life is yours and yours alone,"

"But… I tried so hard to hurt you, to destroy everything you ever loved or cared for. I even asked you to sacrafice the world," Arwen muttered, confused at Aragon's words.

"And I forgive you, for all of it," Aragon said simply and Arwen's heart momentarily stopped.

"You do?" Arwen asked, almost not wanting to believe what he had said to her.

"Yes," Aragon replied, "too much has passed between us. No matter what you may have done, I don't think my heart could bear the weight of holding any true, long-lasting hatred towards you,"

"Thank you," Arwen almost smiled, tears forming in her eyes, "I... I give you two my blessing. I can see now how much you truly care for one another. Please, don't ever lose that. For all of our sakes,"

Both Aragon and Legolas bowed slightly towards her before intertwining their hands.

"What will you do now?" Aragon asked and, for the first time in longer than she could remember, Arwen didn't know.

"You could join us, fight by our sides. The free men of this world would be grateful to have a power such as yours on their side in the fight against Mordor," Legolas offered but Arwen shook her head.

"I am both unfit and unworthy of such a battle," Arwen replied "I also know I cannot return home, to my father. Not after all that I have done,"

"Then where will you go?" Aragon asked with genuine concern.

"I will wander these lands," Arwen gazed out to the mountain view behind her "I will try to learn to live in the light once more. Then, maybe one day, I may find a new path to follow,"

Without turning back to look at Aragon and Legolas, Arwen began walking further into the mountain pass. A swirl of mist rose up from the ground, encasing her body until she was obscured from view. Aragon and Legolas stood together and waited for the mist to clear. But, once it had dissolved into nothing, Arwen was nowhere to be seen.

"Do you think we'll ever see her again?" Legolas asked, turning with Aragon and beginning to walk back towards their camp.

"Maybe, one day," Aragon said with a sad smile, squeezing Legolas' hand. Together they rejoined their brother's in arms, and began preparing for the final battle for Middle Earth.

* * *

Finally, the war was over. Middle Earth and all her people were free once and for all. This peace was cemented in fate as the King of Gondor took his rightful place upon the throne. As he stood in front of his people and smiled, an elfling prince joined him by his side.

"Will you join me, my dearest Legolas?" Aragon asked, holding out his hand towards him.

"I will, Aragon. For all eternity," Legolas replied with a smile, placing his hand in Aragon's. The crowd cheered once more, reinvigorated by their union. The two kings looked out across the crowd, scanning the faces of their people. But suddenly, a flash of movement caught their eyes. They both looked over to see a cloaked figure on the edge of the crowd. Slowly, the figure lowered their hood and both were surprised to see a face they knew well.

"Is she...?" Legolas asked, unsure if his eyes were deceiving him.

"Arwen," Aragon whispered, unable to look away from her. She watched them for a moment until slowly, she began to smile. She gently nodded her head towards them, before pulling up her hood and disappearing back into the throng of people. Both Aragon and Legolas inhaled sharply and glanced at each other for a brief moment. Then, Aragon smiled and squeezed Legolas' hand. And all Legolas could do was smile back at him. Finally, everything was the way it should be.


End file.
